New Year's Eve, 2007

December 31, 2007
Nashville-to-Cooperstown

New Year's Eve is a happy time of year for us in the Yasko household. On New Year's Eve, 2002, I proposed (we'll save that story for another time) at the original Starbucks in Pike Place Market in Seattle. She broke a clown's nose eighteen minutes after that. That's when I knew that I had made the right decision.

NYE07 was a life-changing event. It was our second year in Cooperstown, having flown to Houston Christmas/New Year's in 2006. We spent NYE06 at a Chili's in Albany, New York, drove to Cooperstown, and - on the way to get Gunther and Angus - at 8am January 1, 2007 - I got pulled over for Misdeeds at a Roundabout. Good start to the year.

My job description changed in 2007, so I had a lot of vacation time I needed to burn up - to the tune of almost three weeks. To fly to Texas from Albany, and put two dogs in a kennel for three weeks would have approached close to $2,500. And that's a good two weeks' worth of heating oil, so that was out. We quickly settled on driving to Texas, so that we could take G&A with us, and also have a car with us.

We left Cooperstown about 5pm and headed southwest. Kami asked about our route to Texas and I explained, "Turn right at Oneonta, left at Binghamton, right at Knoxville, left at Dallas." I still have no idea what Pennsylvania looks like. As far as I'm concerned, I-81 through Pennsylvania looks like the route to Hogwarts, because it was so foggy, I could barely see. We spent the first night at a hotel in Harrisonburg, Virginia, without incident. The next day we drove to Nashville, where we stayed with some friends, and was also the day that Miguel Tejada was traded to the Astros. The next day, Dallas, and Miguel Tejada was named in the Mitchell Report. The day after that, we drove to Houston via Austin (long story), and I read the Mitchell Report.

Total route distance: 2,025 miles. Total route time: 33 hours. But as we made our way, gas got cheaper and the temperature got warmer.

We had a lovely time in Texas, and proceeded to make our way back to New York on December 29, 2007, arranging to swing back by Nashville (where we thought, "We should live here. Like, now."). Checking the weather - because I'm a little OCD about the weather - I saw that a blizzard was going to sweep it's way up I-81 on December 30. Well, I'm not about to get stranded on the interstate in a blizzard. And it was about 45 degrees in Nashville, or, approximately 35 degrees warmer than it was in Cooperstown, so we stayed in Nashville an extra day, planning to make the whole drive back to Cooperstown on December 31 - 975 miles in one day.

Off we went.

Quickly, a list of the Worst Places I've Ever Been:
1. Meridian, MS
2. Terrell, TX
3. Bristol, TN/VA
4. Mandeville, LA

But Salem, Virginia holds a special place in my heart. I needed coffee. Bad. So there was a sign at the exit for Salem that said there was a Starbucks. Here's the thing, and this is true in Pennsylvania and Virginia: you cannot trust the exit signs. The Interstate will say there is a Starbucks at that exit, and it is technically true, but it's going to take 25 minutes to get to that spot.

So we meander off I-81 outside Roanoke for a 50-minute detour, and I get the biggest cup of coffee they'll give me, plus three shots of espresso. As I'm getting back in the car, Gunther & Angus are hopping excited (and cramped), and I take my spot at the steering wheel - where Gunther parkours himself towards my seat, knocks my scalding hot caffeine out of my hand, all over my arms, steering wheel, and crotch.

Myriad thoughts went through my mind, not the least of which included the scalding hot liquid all over me, and the squirming dog licking the steering wheel. In the middle of all this, I realized that we had been in the car for seven hours, and were not yet halfway home. Partially due to pain, mainly due to this realization, I started to cry. And I don't mean "sweet, gentle, touching tears." This was a complete and utter meltdown in the parking lot of a Starbucks in Salem, Virginia. The steering wheel and dashboard caught the brunt of this outburst, but I made sure not to lash out at Kami, or Gunther and Angus.

Still, it was alarming enough that, when I came to (six minutes had passed, apparently) there were people looking in my window like it was a funhouse mirror. Kami gently guided me to the passenger side, where I laid the seat back, cried a little more (Gunther and Angus decided that the back seat was less crazy than the front, and faced the seat) until I could pull it together.

30 minutes later, I resumed driving. Don't forget the date, however. It was December 31. New Year's Eve. Amateur Night for Aspiring Alcoholics.

We stopped for dinner at an Arby's in Scranton, PA. Angus had part of a turkey sandwich and threw up all over the backseat. We got to Binghamton as they were starting their fireworks display (11pm). We got to Oneonta about 12:30am. The drive from Oneonta to Cooperstown - 22-ish miles - is dangerous at the best of times. When every drunk nutbag is coming home from their New Year's Eve parties, it's like a bad day in Bosnia.

There's a creepy little town at Goodyear Lake, where the road bends a little bit. At 12:45am
a car, swerving somewhat uncontrollably, passed right through us. There's no other explanation. There's simply no other explanation.

We arrived home at 1:15am, January 1, 2008, and were back at work on January 3. Happy New Year.